


Beautiful People, Beautiful Problems

by rextexx



Series: Loving you is really hard [5]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Baby!Rottenella, Babysitting, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Confectionary Bake AU!, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established & Unestablished Relationships, Kid!Robbie, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Mention of Impalement, Mention of blood, Mermaid! AU, Mild Language, Non-Explicit-Mature content, Oneshot, Showers, Sleep Paralysis, TLC's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-06 02:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rextexx/pseuds/rextexx
Summary: A series of prompts and Oneshots surrounding Lazytowns favorite Villain and Hero, and their ever so lovely shenanigans.Tags to be added! Ratings will change!





	1. Clingy

**Author's Note:**

> When I'm traveling or feel myself in writers/artist block, I usually write down little oneshots on my tablet. I have a whole lot of these actually lol.  
> These aren't very long but I try to make them all 1000+ words each.

When Robbie slept, he was clingy.  
  
As absurd as it sounds, seeing as we were speaking about Robbie Rotten, the man that merely needed his furry armchair, a bowl of packing beans and no social interactions whatsoever – Robbie proved himself to be very much in need of tlc's.  
  
It was hard to lure that need out of him. Even harder to make him admit it.  
  
He could be quite the affectionate type whenever they were alone though, if he wanted too, or if the mood was right. He is a little fuzzy when Sportacus goes into the initiative with physical affection like hand holding, hugs, kissing; It was either too much, or when he was caught off-guard, or at 'inappropriate times', which translates into 'not in front of the kids, not infront of the Mayor, not in front of anybody in fact.'  
  
But oh, if Robbie ever felt he was in need of some Sportahugs, he would even make the sacrifice of climbing up the blimps ladder, overcoming all sorts of fears of height just so he could cuddle. Robbie was very much like a cat, Stephanie once said as a joke, but Sportacus figured that she had quite a point – Robbie came when _he_ wanted to. Not when _others_ wanted.  
  
It's early in the morning, approximately 8.08 am, and Sportacus awoke from a well rested sleep filled with dreams. Dreams of green meadows and soft winds and apple trees. He stretched, and was up and about to jump out of bed and start his day, that's when he noticed he was not alone. Limbs had tangled around him, one knee sandwiched between his own, an arm over his chest and another pressed into his side.  
  
He heard the faint sounds of snores purring into his ear. Sportacus blinked, until he realized Robbie was still fast asleep. Of course he was.  
  
This time was not Robbie's time to wake up, no matter how often Sportacus tried to improve his sleeping schedule.  
  
But he couldn't blame the man. He recalled that one particular evening that Robbie's entire sleeping habits spiraled out of conrol.  
  
It was late at night, when Sportacus crystal hammered so frantically like he never had witnessed before. He found Robbie, drenched in sweat, blank terror visible in his gray eyes. He stammered something about not being able to move, for a whole ten minutes. He described absolutely terrible things Robbie had seen right before his very eyes, when he couldn't move or even call for help, that send chills up Sportacus's spine.  
  
That was the day the Sportself learned about sleep paralysis. And the day Robbie even dropped his fear of heights, just to be close to Sportacus, in case it ever happened again. Sportacus didn't mind sharing the bed, not at all. After all, he had the privilege of seeing him wrapped in clean white sheets, hair tangled and ruffled, eyes closed in an ever so handsome, relaxed face.  
  
He actually noticed a few unshaven stubble on the mans jawline, and the disheveled shape of Robbie's neatly combed sideburns and hairline.  
  
A smile formed on his face. He wished he could stay like this a while longer, but knew that sleeping in was not an option. The kids will be up soon, and he will have to make sure they start the day with a healthy breakfast.  
  
Besides, he would become fidgety. And then Robbie would wake up too and be grumpy all day long. So, Sportacus every so slowly peeled himself out of Robbie's half-hug, carefully removing his arms and legs from his body, and slipped away from the comfortably warm covers.  
  
He knew he had to simmer down some of his exercises in order to not spook Robbie out of his dreams. At least, he could still start with something small and silent. He dropped to the floor, catching himself with his palms flat on the floor. He pushed himself up again, and down, up and down, counting under his breath. He continued until he reached two hundred pushups, before swinging his legs over the bed and began pushing his upper body to his propped-up knees.  
  
That's when he heard the sheets shuffling, and a familiar voice grunting softly into the pillow. Sportacus continued until he saw a slender hand fumbling around at the edge of the mattress.  
  
“Sportaflop...” Robbie's voice was thick with sleep, even darker than usually, and Sportacus felt his heart bouncing inside his chest.  
  
“Hey Robbie.” he chuckled softly. “Did I wake you up?”  
  
He received no answer, but Robbie's finger traveled blindly searching around the bed, until they had a hold of one of Sportacus feet. Sportacus cringed with a giggly.  
  
“Noo, you know I'm ticklish there.” he pulled away, flopping down on his back on the cold floor. The slender fingers curled around the bedsheet, followed by another grunt.  
  
“Come back to bed, Sportaflop.” Robbie muttered.  
  
“I can't, Robbie.” Sportacus moved to sit up. “It's eight past eight. The kids will be up soon.”  
  
“It's too early for you to be a menace already.” Robbie growled. Sportacus grinned, adjusting the blanket around the taller man so he wouldn't become cold.  
  
“I gotta go now.” he whispered.

“Just five more minutes?” the villain asked softly, a last attempt to lure the blue elf back into his warm embrace. “Five more minutes. Just five. Then I'll let you go.”  
  
Sportacus was about to decline, when …  
  
“I'll replace every apple in your fridge with sugar apples if you don't move your butt back in here.” Robbie grumbled, and Sportacus couldn't help but giggle, then, he took a deep breath. “Alright. But only five minutes.” he said.  
  
Robbie hummed an affirmative, and raised the bedcovers. Sportacus took the invitation and slipped back into cozy warmth, enhanced as Robbie wrapped his limbs around Sportacus the moment the elf was in reach. Like a koala to a tree, Robbie clung tightly to the superhero with arms and legs.  
  
Sportacus wrapped his arms around the villains bare back. He was soft and warm and hummed in appreciation at the gentle scratch of shortened nails running over his spine. It's strange to admit, especially when he never had wasted a thought about it before – but ever since they shared a bed, Sportacus was sleeping much much better.  
  
His sleeps were full of clear, wonderful dreams, he barely felt the need to enhance the temperatures inside the aircraft, and even though he still appreciated her with all his heart, hearing Robbie's voice in the morning, instead of a robotic buzzing from the AI coming from the speakers, was a wonderful little feature.  
  
Robbie shifted, so half of his body was lying on top of Sportacus' chest.  
  
“Finally I captured you, Sportanoodle.” Robbie muttered into the elf's ear. “And I'll keep you here in this very bed, so you won't start goading the kids into being loud and noisy – forever.”  
  
“Forever?” Sportacus mumbled with a tinge of amusement.  
  
“Forever.” Robbie confirmed, and closed his eyes again, nuzzling his face into Sportacus' neck.  
  
After only moments, the villain was fast asleep again. Sportacus continued to lightly run his nails over Robbie's back and through his hair.  
  
He hates to wake Robbie up; But five minutes had passed long ago, and Robbie seemed to have no intentions of letting Sportacus go on his own free will. And Sportacus was becoming fidgety. Resisting the urge to move around, and ultimately failing, Sportacus untangled himself from his lover. Robbie grumbled in protest as his arms felt empty, and he had to grab onto the pillows. “Just five more minutes...” he growled, kneading the sheets.  
  
Sportacus chuckled, and leaned in, pressing a kiss on the man's eyebrow. It was a tender, loving kiss, lingering longer than necessary, before he drew back. “See you later, Robbie.”  
  
  


 


	2. The nicest Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is inspired by this lovely (kinda sad ) picture by kessavel-art:  
> http://kessavel-art.tumblr.com/post/163234653205/um-hi-if-ur-still-takin-requests-and-want

It's almost noon.

The cake he had prepared, all by himself, the large cake with strawberry frosting and whipped cream on top, hasn't been touched yet. The ten candles were nearly burned down.

Nobody had come.

He was absolutely sure he had send out all invitations. He was sure they had arrived, too. Ten o'clock, the paper read, is when his party would have started. He had send every kid in his school an invitation, all of them – even the teacher.  
It's almost noon, and nobody had come to his birthday party.

He tried not to cry. He tried not to spill tears on his empty plate, as he looked at the set of many other empty plates he had neatly put around the table. He told himself 'they must be late' or, 'they probably can't find the right address' as he stood by the window and stared outside. Watching passing vehicles and bikes, in hope they would move down the dirt path towards the big billboard he called his home.

But none did.  
  
He slowly felt his heart sink. His dreams and hopes shatter.  
It had been months that Robbie had collected money to afford this party, to buy cake ingredients and balloons and party hats.

Whenever his 'father' came back home from a heist, Robbie was entitled to about ten percent of the income. Not out of generosity, no, he wasn't a generous man. Not ever. But Robbie was, to say it bluntly, an inventing genius, even at his tender age of ten. He build things, machinery, gadgets, weaponry – mostly weaponry – his tutor used to break into jewelry's or steal people's possessions.

Just recently, one of Robbie's invention was used in a bank raid, leading the police to stand at his door one day, expecting to see a grown mastermind, but finding only a small boy that was taught to play innocent when the 'five-o's' were standing at their doorstep.

Maybe, Robbie recollected, his ability to play different roles perfectly to slither himself out of tricky situations, and his immense intelligence was the reason he had landed in this here lair, with a crazed criminal who wouldn't hesitate to poke a mans eye out with his very heels, and opens jammed nutella jars with knifes.

He honestly didn't know what he had expected. The kids at his school hated him. He was a nerd in their eyes. An outcast. A social awkward loser. Nobody wanted to be his friend. They bullied him, or avoided him, some even feared him. Latibae used to have a whole lot of children to play with, but that was way before Robbie even had arrived. Lazytown was even sparser in inhabitants. At the time, there were only the Mayor and his assistance.

All in all – Robbie was alone. With nobody to talk to. Or play with. Nobody to sit next to him on such an important day. Nobody to sing him happy birthday songs. Nobody to eat cake with him, share presents, play tacky birthday games.

Robbie swallowed past the lump in his throat, as he drew the cake closer to is side of he table. “Make a wish...” he muttered to himself. It wasn't hard to guess what Robbie wished for. Nevertheless, he folded his hands in front of his face, and closed his eyes.

“I wish that god will send down a friend for me to spend my birthday with me. Maybe send an angle. The nicest angle you have...” he whispered, and blew out the candles.

**_WHAM!_ **

Somewhere a door swung open violently. Something heavy was dropped to the floor.  
  
“Hey, _face-ache_.” Glanni's growl echoed through the lair, causing Robbie to flinch in his seat. “Didn't you say this sugar-apple generator actually works for once? That metallic piece of crap is generating sugarplums for five hours straight!”  
  
“S-Sorry Glanni...” Robbie squeaked.  
“Yeah, you better be goddamn sorry. You're damn lucky I actually got that sonuva-sportself-bitch to lie down while I robbed some idiots garage.” Glanni grabbed the heavy plastic back and dragged it along the floor, flopping it down next to Robbie's chair. “Choose whatever knick-knacks you want, but keep your stinky little mitts off my stuff! If I catch you touching the fucking ferret-fur coat, I'll–“  
  
Glanni cut himself off as his eyes landed on the table. It was all covered in plates, napkins, forks and untouched party hats, a few balloons that slowly lost their helium were barely hovering. It certainly didn't seem as if anybody had arrived at the table, or was ever going to. Robbie sat there like a picture of misery, eyes filled with wetness, not meeting the criminal's gaze.  
  
It was very obvious that the boy was close to the verge of tears. And while Glanni deemed any sort of weakness as good excuse to mock said person, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the child. Mostly, because it reminded him of himself in his youth. Alone, with no friends or family.  
  
He grimaced. “Am I caught in some 'Dinner for one' bullshit? What's this about now?” he snarled.  
  
Robbie hook his head. “It's my birthday.” he said.  
  
“What?"  
"M-My birthday." Robbie repeated. Glanni knitted his brows together. "Ah. Uh. Right.” Glanni picked up the pad calendar from he kitchen counter. “I guess I wrote that down somewhere.”  
  
But everything he had written down was his heist for today. He'd even circled it in red marker.  
  
“So, uh how old are you again? _Six?_ ”  
  
“I'm ten.”  
  
“Whatever.” Glanni shrugged and placed the calendar back on the table. “And you're awaiting the president or something? As if you have that many friends anyway.” he muttered after counting the chairs.  
  
“I'm not awaiting anybody. Well..not anymore, but...” Robbie propped his head on his arm and pulled down the periscope. “You know - Maybe they simply arrive later? Or they missed the house number?” Outside was not the slightest trace of any visitors.  
  
“Unlikely.” Glanni deadpanned, and picked up the plastic bag. “Anyway, I'll be off. And don't fucking dare knocking at my room until dinner time, got it grease-bangs?”  
  
Robie nodded defeated, letting the periscope slip from his fingers as it snapped back up to the ceiling, letting his head rest on his arms on the table surface, as Glanni walked off.  
That's when an idea came to his mind.  
  
“Wait!”  
  
“ _What?_ ” Glanni spat, half way up the stairs.  
  
“Well...now that you're back. Would you, uhm. Would you like to eat some cake with me?”  
  
Of course, he wouldn't be able to bait Glanni with asking him if he wanted to spend some time with him. He knew Glanni would just be in his room again, sitting in that large fluffy armchair and be lonely, anyway. They could be lonely _together,_ right?  
  
“Me?” Glanni blurted, which was half-way drowned by a disdainful snort. “No thank you, midget. I really don't wanna be part of your lil' pity party, honestly.” Glanni's heels echoed through the lair.  
  
“Really, I've got better things to do than sitting around with you and playing stupid 'hit the pot' games and – _wait_.” And Glanni appeared behind the corner faster than an eyesblink.  
  
“What kind of cake?”  
  
“Ah.” Robbie shrugged. “Just black forest cherry cake with whipped cream...”  
  
Glanni's tongue brushed over his lips. And Robbie threw him a knowing glance. "With chocolate chips inside?"  
"Mh-hm." Robbie nodded.  
  
“Guh, fine.” Glanni muttered, and sat down on the chair next to Robbie. “I can go for one piece. But only because it's cherry cake with chocolate chips!”  
  
They ate in silence, Glanni didn't drop a comment about having candlewax on his frosting, nor further dropped jokes about Robbie's terribly pathetic excuse of a party. He even played around with the party hat cord, but not putting it on.  
  
That was fine with Robbie, though. At least, he wasn't spending his birthday completely alone, and as the day stretched, Glanni was showing Robbie all the loot he had grabbed, which was something Glanni never did.  
  
He spoke a lot about Ithróthaalfurinn and how terrible the man was, and how he would make sure to bury the heel of his boots into the sportself's ass the next time he would see him – and Robbie was actually able to laugh, for once today.  
  
It might not have been the 'nicest angel' he had asked for. But it was still one of Robbie's most rememberable birthdays.


	3. Baby Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was this lady sitting next to me on the airplane with a small, kinda sickly baby and she handled all those 8 hours of comforting like a champ. Robbie tries too.

Twelve a.m was a strange time for someone to be in trouble.  
  
The moment Sportacus was woken up by the frantic flashing of his crystal, he supposed that one of the kids had a nightmare. Usually, the parents would be there before Sportacus could step in.  
  
Unless, of course, if it was Ziggy. His mom was working night shifts, and he was always alone when he would wake up from nightmares, hence, he was easily triggering the crystals alarm.  
  
Sportacus jumped out of bed at once, rushing down the ladder, and landing on the ground. Weirdly enough, as soon as his feet hit the floor, he felt the energy wasn't leading him to Ziggy's house. Or any of the town houses at that – but outside Lazytown's borders. To Robbie's bunker, to be precise.  
  
“Robbie is in trouble? At that time?” he wondered. Not questioning any further, he rushed down the gravel road, jumped behind the billboard, and reached the hatch. It wasn't locked, thank god, so he easily opened it, and jumped down the chute.  
  
Sportacus only barely managed to come to a halt on his two feet, he nearly had stumbled over the carpet and crash into the armchair.  
  
“Sorry Robbie, didn't mean to scare you, Robbie, the crystal said you're in trouble, so I --”  
  
But Robbie wasn't sitting in his armchair. Confused, Sportacus looked around, only to find Robbie standing in the kitchen. He was in his usual nightgown, a deep purple morning robewith slippers and cap, a wooden spoon in his hand, standing at the stove with a pot of...milk? The lair was smelling like warm milk. Robbie stared at the sportself as if he had grown a second head.  
  
“Sportaclown? What in the –?! When did you – ?” But then he grimaced “Ugh, of course you'd come.” The villain rolled his eyes. “Should have seen that coming.”  
  
Sportacus just now realized something very strange. There had been a noise that the superhero only now fully registered.  
  
Crying. The cries of a child. A very, very, _very_ young child. A baby, an infant more likely. Lying half across his shoulder was a small bundle of maroon towels that Robbie carried with his free hand. Small tiny, human hands held a firm grasp on the villains robe.  
  
Sportacus picked himself up, slowly. He blinked, once twice, until he realized the bizarre situation he just had stumbled into.  
  
“Is that...?” He asked.  
“She won't stop crying...” Robbie muttered, adjusting the bundle of towels over his shoulder. “She's been having temperatures all of the sudden. Tsk. Babies and their flimsy immune systems! Where could she even have caught that one from? Grr, I bet one of your germ-carrying menaces passed that through the entire town – ”  
  
“Robbie, the milk.” Sportacus pointed at the pot. Robbie's gaze followed his finger down to the stove and flinched as he noticed the lid was slowly rising from milk foam bubbling up. With an 'Eep'-sound, Robbie quickly set the temperature down and removed the pot from the stove – causing the poor baby in his arms to cry louder.  
  
Sportacus was actually too flabbergasted to immediately come up with the question why Robbie, out of all the people in Lazytown, was holding a baby in his arm. It had to be his, obviously. Robbie wouldn't just pick up a child and take it home without telling anybody.  
  
Or could he possibly have _kidnapped_ her?  
  
No. Impossible. No matter how much Robbie labeled himself as the bad guy, he would never take somebody's child away.  
  
“Fine, if you're here, then make yourself useful and grab that bottle from the table, would you?”  
  
Sportacus was torn from his perplexed state and blinked into the room. He noticed the empty bottle standing on the couch table. He picked it up, and carried it to the villain. Robbie muttered something under his breath as a thank you.  
  
“Here, hold this.” he deadpanned, and pressed the bundle into Sportacus' direction.  
“I—uhm...”  
“She won't bite, Sportaklutz, just _hold_ her.”  
  
Almost instinctively, his arms curled around the little body, holding her a little awkwardly, while Robbie tended to pouring the milk into the small bottle. Apparently the journey from one arm to the offer had caught the baby offguard, for she had stopped fuzzing completely. Which gave Sportacus an excuse to remove her from his shoulder and have a closer look at her.  
  
A small smile appeared on his lips. Yes, she definitely had to be a Rotten. Her hair was just as jetblack, and her eyes just as stormy gray, and her expression just as grumpy as a certain other person Sportacus could name. There was a faint blush on her cheek and freckles on her small button nose, her lips almost the shape of a heart.  
  
Robbie returned to the recliner and slumped down, taking the kid back into his arms. He looked tired, and exhausted, sleep-deprived and ready to pass out himself soon.  
Sportacus pulled the footrest close and sat down as well, out of courtesy.  
  
“She is cute.” he said. “I didn't know you had children, Robbie. What's her name? Where's her mother?”  
  
Robbie frowned back at him.  
“I – uhm.” Sportacus quickly raised his hands. “I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries with asking.” It just occurred to him that asking such questions might be too personal, and oh he knew how Robbie disliked anything personal. “I'm just wondering since...uhm...”  
  
“Sportaloser – you _know_ her already.”  
“I uh – I do?”  
  
Robbie rolled his eyes. “Yes, you _do!_ Don't you remember that day Pinkie wanted to do this dumb dancing contest?”  
“Oh. Oh!” Sportacus eyes widened in realization. So this was the little robot girl Robbie had built.  
  
“Of course, I remember! Rottenella, wasn't it? But why is she so, uhm - I remember she was Stephanie's age the last time...”  
  
“Meh, I had her standing in my closet, just catching dust, and honestly – I felt bad. Yes, yes I know, an unfitting combination. But either way - Too bad I lost her windup key somewhere. So, naturally,” he removed the empty bottle from the baby and placed her over his shoulder, gently patting her back. “I remade her.”  
  
“As a baby?” Sportacus asked. “Why not like she was before?”  
  
Robbie gave an annoyed sound, and shook his head. “Sportacus, Sportacus, Sportacus – science is evolving every day. Making ten-year-old robots is _sooo_ last year! We have the resources to build robots that develop like human do, even faster than most people! Why bother making Robots of _one_ age group when you can have a robot going through _all_ age groups? And... _besides_ \--”  
  
And Robbie averted his eyes from the sportself, hunching his shoulders slightly. “She helps be to fall asleep much easier.”  
  
On cue, Sportacus noticed the small baby was ready to doze off, lying on Robbie's chest with her head resting in the crook of his neck. Robbie pressed a button on the armchair, which began slowly rocking back and forth, as he began humming a lullaby. “Don't you laugh, Sportapleb.” Robbie hissed as he saw Sportacus' lips curl slowly into a bright, and dare he say, proud smile.  
  
A baby in Lazytown was, of course, a much more different challenge than a group of ten year old children. But he trusted Robbie to do the right thing.  
  


 


	4. La Belle et la Bête

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet, with almost 2k words. It's not inspired by the disney version btw!

Íþróttaálfurinn had never expected to loose his most precious son over the extraction of an apple.  
But unfortunate to him, said apple was from an apple tree, standing at the entrance of a strange factory-like construction, tall, and eery.  
  
He had been wandering in the human world for so long, and all his son had asked for was the fruit of life.  
  
“You have no right to take from me.” a voice growled as Íþróttaálfurinn plucked the apple.  
  
The voice does not fit to what the elf had ever seen around the world of humans. Gravely, distorted and difficult to understand. The beast – and it was a 'beast', for nothing human could ever look as terrifying as this – glowered at him.  
  
“If you take from _me_ , I will take from _you_.”  
  
“What could _you_ take from me?” Íþróttaálfurinn sneered – but the claws that close around his throat give a good indication.  
  
Fear takes over the elf, and he stammers. “Please. I can give you anything. Anything you want.”  
  
“I don't want _anything_.” The beats hissed. “Who is this apple for?”  
“My son. My son, Sportacus.”  
  
The beast considers. Then, it speaks again. “You will bring him here. He will stay with me from now on. Return with him by sunrise. Refuse, and I will kill you. _All_ of you.”  
  
Sportacus didn't protest. He doesn't struggle, or attempt to flee. He arrives in the human world, at the old, withered hatch.  
  
The beast isn't there. It's not welcoming him. Not even, as Sportacus opens the hatch and slips down an old, rusty slide. It was dark in here. The air was moist, and filled with the smell of grass and moss. Spiderwebs were covering each corner, and some had settled on the sparse furniture. There wasn't much. Just an old armchair in a strange, yet bright color. And lots of machinery that Sportacus had no name for.  
  
“You are here.” A voice echoed through the lair. It is a strong voice that carries the force of five, six men instead of one. Sportacus looks for the source, but cannot place location to the voice.  
  
“Yes. I am.” Sportacus said. A tiny smile appears on his face, now that he knows he isn't completely alone.  
  
“Are you not afraid?” the voice asked.  
  
“I'm not. This place is _huge_. I can do a lot of exercise out down here! And you even have a small garden outside!” Sportacus started looking around, touching every book on the tall bookshelf and rubs dust off of the orange tainted glass from another strange construction.  
  
“ _Exercise_...?” The voice asked.  
“I'm a Sportself. My whole like consist of sports.” He explained patiently. The huff he hears makes Sportacus laugh. Then, the lair falls back into silence.  
  
“Where are you? Can I see you?” he asked.  
“No.” was the answer.  
“Why not?”  
They never replied.  
  
Sportacus began his new life in the underground. He slept on the armchair which he had cleared, and dusted off himself. Everyday he plucked apples from the large apple tree outside, and began his exercises. Jumping, push-ups, sit-ups, stretching. The beast watches. He sits on top of this tall billboard, hidden in the shadows. Sportacus knows he is there.

“How come you live in this bunker, instead of the town?” He looks to the small village at the end of a gravel road.  
  
“It's my home.” The voice said and Sportacus nods thoughtfully.  "I understand."  
  
“Do you miss your home?” he is asked.  
  
“Sometimes.” Sportacus shrugs. “I've always lived with other Sportselves, you know. Sometimes I live among the humans too. I've always been around many individuals at once, and now I'm...well...”  
  
Silence falls among them, and only the softest breeze swirls around the meadow. In the distance, he hears children play.  
  
“Do you have a name?” Sportacus asks. There is a long pause.  
“No.”  
“No? Ah, but everyone has a name.” Sportacus is greeted with silence again. “Are you afraid of telling me? Or are you ashamed?”  
  
“I don't remember.” Was the answer.

 

* * *

  
Like every evening, Sportacus is in the kitchen preparing dinner.  
“Is your name Siggi?”  
“No.”  
  
“Hm. Maybe it's Thomas?”  
“No.”  
  
Sportacus stirs the broth slowly. “Lets see...Hans? Tobias? Magnus? Anton? Benjamin?”

“ _No.”_ the voice sounds angry now.  
  
“Okay, okay.” Sportacus chuckles. “Sorry. I do not mean to annoy you.” He pours the dish into two bowls. One he carries to the armchair. The other, he places a few feet away into the shadows. “There you go. I hope you like it.” Sportacus beams, and sits down to eat. The other bowl stays there, not touched or even acknowledged.  
  
“Come on now. It's gonna get cold.”  
“What is this?”  
“It's chicken broth. With carrots and peas.”  
  
A pause. “I don't eat this.”  
  
“It's good for you though. And you must be hungry.”  
“I'm not.” The voice spat.  
  
“Aw, come on. Just try it. Just one spoon. Okay?”  
  
Silence again. Sportacus sighed, and placed his half-eaten meal on the table next to him to go and pick up the rest of the dinner. He could use it for tomorrow, he mused – as he suddenly heard a slurping noise. Sportacus flinched and wheeled around, just in time to see the spoon drop back into his own bowl. He grinned.  
  
“And? How you like it?”  
  
“I hate it.” the voice growled. Sportacus laughed nevertheless. “I bet you like it at least a _little_ bit. What else do you eat, anyway.”  
  
“Candy.” Came the immediate answer.  
  
“Candy isn't good for you, though.” Sportacus shook his head. “You need a healthy diet to stay healthy.”

“Speak for yourself, Sportaflop.” the voice snarled.

 

* * *

  
“When will I see you?” Sportacus asked. He asked it every day. Every end of the day, sometimes twice. He was never greeted with an answer. Or sometimes, the voice would speak to change the subject.  
  
“Are you well cared for?” The voice asked. Sportacus nodded.  
  
“Are you happy?”  
  
And Sportacus would nod again. Every day, a little less hesitantly. “I like listening to your voice.” He said. “I just wish I would...”  
  
“Would what?” the voice asked.  
  
Sportacus sighed as he continued to do bench pressing with the armchair.  
  
“You know, sometimes I have this strange dream. This dream that I could see you. You'd be this tall, lanky, kind of strange man, who walks elegantly, with shiny shoes and nice clothes. You'd have pants that reach all the way up to your ribs, heh. And a vest, and cuffs with polkadot buttons. You'd have this strange haircut, a pompadour I think and you'd always get fuzzy when I touch it accidentally. You'd always frown a little and your nose would twitch, and I'd always laugh...Pretty eyes. Stormy grey eyes. And this handsome smile...”  
  
The silence was thick and suffocating. And it stayed like this, to the evening hours. Sportacus had stopped talking ever since then. And the voice hasn't asked or spoken either.  
  
“What if you're not real, after all...?” Sportacus whispered, eyes fixed to the cold floor. “What if you're just in my head? The voice? The conversations we have. I know you're there, behind me or just in the same room, but...I don't... I don't want to be alone. I don't want this to be just my imagination. I don't want to turn around one day and just see nobody.”  
  
The silence is deafening now. And then, suddenly, there are footsteps echoing. Coming closer. Behind him.  
  
“If you wish,” this all too familiar voice spoke, like a boy in a body with limbs too big, the power of many men trapped in one. “You can leave this place.”  
  
“Leave?” Sportacus repeated.  
  
“You can return to your folk. I do not want you to stay here, if you are unhappy...”  
  
“I'm not unhappy. I just. I want to see you. I want to be your friend. I want to know your name and play with you, and maybe we could do some exercise together. We could go to the village together and play with the children there, yes? I just – I want to _know_ who you are .”  
  
Sportacus jumped from his seat and turns. He isn't alone, alright. He sees a shoe, dark, shiny, with neat white spats appear from the shadows.  
  
The elf smiles, nevertheless. “Are you afraid?”  
  
“I'm _hideous._ ” The voice corrected. It's not the answer to his question. But it answers another, nevertheless.  
  
“You don't need to be ashamed – I bet you're not that bad looking. Come. Come here. I promise I won't bite. And I won't force you to exercise with me either, if that's what you're afraid of.”  
  
He doesn't move. The foot turns, and vanishes back in the shadows.  
  
“Tomorrow, Sportanuisance...” the voice answers, as footsteps echo through the lair.  
  
And tomorrow came.  
  
And as Sportacus begins is morning stretches, standing at a tall mirror, touching his toes and straightens again, he freezes at what he sees. It's a monster. Tall, covered in fur. The face contoured into a snarl. Piercing gray eyes stare back at him, gleaming in the shadows that it stands in. Horns curl over the head of the beast. For a good ten seconds Sportacus was sure he was looking at a very tall, black bull of some sort. But cows don't have fangs. Or claws. Cows don't wear stripes clothes, and walk on two legs.  
  
“Wh-What is – “ Sportacus stumbles back. "What is this?"  
  
“What do you see?” The voice asks.  
  
“There's something in the mirror. It -- It has a terrible face. A _beast_. It's... It's – ! “  
  
“Hideous.”  
  
A cold shudder runs down his back at the realization. He turns around.  
“Y-You're...”  
  
“You shouldn't have asked to see me.” the voice, so familiar, says.  
  
“B-But – But how? Why?” his hand reached, and he touched the muzzle of the beast, just so he would know, it was real. “You weren't born like this – were you?”  
  
“Of course not.” the beast draws away from the touch. “One of those meddling kids. They don't know humans wishing curses upon fae's come true. I've used my magic for evil things – and this is how I pay for it.” the beast lowered his head in sorrow.  
  
“I forced my way of living upon them. A lazy life. I destroyed everything that set it out of balance. I wanted to keep the name of this city alive. I was ugly on the inside, and pretty on the outside. And now I'm ugly, on both sides.”  
  
“There must be a way to break this curse.” Sportacus says.  
  
“Yes.” The beast sighs. “But it won't ever happen.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
The beast stays silent.  
  
“You were kind to me, Sportacus. You didn't know my appearance, yet treated me like an equal. You had the chance to leave, any time, and you stayed. You endured me, without judging. Without hating me. Without fearing me. You are _beautiful_ , and I...”  
  
He looked down at his claw-like hands. “I am nothing but a beast. And nobody could _love_ an evil beast like me.”  
  
Sportacus' lips pulled into a smile. “You are frightening – but not evil.” He said, as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the monster's muzzle.  
  
Time stops for a moment. And when he pulls back, he sees no monster anymore.  
  
No beast, nothing frightening. He sees the man he saw in his dreams; Stormy gray eyes. Black hair. A handsome, yet perplexed face. No fur, no snarl. He blinks back at Sportacus. And Sportacus blinks back at him with that ever so beautiful smile.  
  
“You are beautiful, too. Inside, and outside.” he takes his hand. He doesn't let go for a long time. 

 


	5. "What's a shauwa?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever seen Sportacus showering in the show? I'm sure I haven't. Maybe he doesn't even know what showering is. Maybe sportelves dont need to shower. Maybe this is also the chapter where the rating goes uuuuup-di-doo.

Who would have guessed that Sportacus could be a smug show-off if he wanted to?   
  
As usual, Robbie was woken up from his afternoon nap by the horde of children hogging the sportsfield. Robbie groaned angrily, and although he really was not eager to watch and give his throbbing head some rest, he stayed – simply because he was too lazy to move.  
  
And, of course, Sportacus had just entered the field. They were playing soccer, what a great surprise. And while Sportacus would supervise the children, he began dribbling with a ball by himself.   
  
“Hey Robbie.” He waved, and flipped the ball from one foot to the other.   
  
Robbie soon saw a pattern here.

Sportacus would intervene in the game when someone was fouling, or when a goal was made, and returned then, right into Robbie's field of view, doing impressive tricks with the ball, some that involved simple foot-work, others was just so 'Sportacus'-like they were simply ridiculous – doing a handstand on the ball, or throwing it so far to the sky it vanished for a few seconds, before he caught it with ease.   
  
“What is he _doing_?” Robbie muttered to himself. Sportacus kept winking at him, beaming and keeping eyecontact whenever he could.   
  
Nowadays, Robbie would instantly know what he was hinting on. On this occasion however, Robbie looked as dumbfounded as possible. Then, he remembered something he once read about elves. And it all added up.  
  
Of course. _Courting._ Sportacus was trying to court him, like a peacock, showing off his impressive feather wheel.

“Ah, I see now.” the villain smirked. He waited to the end of the match, until he gave the ok for Sportacus to come along. A simply 'come hither' motion with his finger as he strode off towards the billboard.

Like a puppy on a leash, Sportacus flip-flopped after him into his lair. Well, so far so good. Now, what?

He had a suddenly very clingy and affectionate Sportacus holding him tightly with his lips attached to his neck and suckling wilts into the sensitive skin. Robbie positively melted into those strong arms and wet smooches, letting himself be steered into his bedroom;  
  
  
“W-Wait, nuh-uh-uh! Hold on, Sportasmooch.” Robbie placed both hands on the elf's shoulder to set some room between them. Sportacus looked up to his lover in confusion. “Shall I stop?” he asked.  
  
“What? No, no. I mean – yes just hold on.” Robbie removed himself from Sportacus arms completely.  
  
“I do wanna spend some... private time with you. But first –,” And Robbie marched to his closet, fetching a bunch of towels, a purple bathrobe and a rubber duck , handing them over to the sportself. “You are gonna take a shower. I don't want you to ruin my sheets with your Sportasweat.”  
  
Sportacus blinked from the items back to Robbie and back down to the stack of towels in his arm.   
  
“Robbie, uhm...,” The blush on his face he had before reddened further.   
  
  
“What's a _shauwa?_ ”  
  
“...Are you kidding me?”  
  
“N-No. I promise I don't.”  
  
“You – you don't know what a shower is?” Robbie stared back at him.   
  
Well, Sportacus, as far as Robbie could tell, never smelled bad. He had his very own, natural body odor, not comparable to anything, and yet still distinguishable, and pleasant. And Robbie had a very sensitive nose when it came to odors.   
  
With a shake of his head, he took hold of Sportacus' arm and dragged him towards the bathroom. “Well, it's time you learn about it then. Come on, strip.”  
  
Sportacus blinked at him in surprise. “I – I thought you said later?”  
  
“That's not what – ugh, fine. C'mere.” Robbie rolled his eyes, fingers grabbing for Sportacus' garment and swiftly undressed the perplexed elf.   
  
“Alright, into the stall with you.” he was pushed beneath the shower head. “Now stay there, don't move –“  
  
“Hey, what's this here?” Sportacus asked, setting his hand on the faucet – turning it on.   
  
Icecold water cascaded down onto the hero and the villain, one of them still fully dressed. Robbie squealed in shock as coldness bit into his skin and his clothes folded around his limbs like a second layer of icy skin.   
  
“Sorry, Sorry!” Sportacus yelled over the stream of the water, and continued to try and get the water to stop. Coldness was replaced with sudden steaming hotness and even Sportacus made a sound in distress, frantically trying to shut it off.  
  
“You _Sportadork_!!” Robbie barked, grabbed the faucet, and the water turned off. Left was a drenched Robbie, and Sportacus with golden bangs folded over his eyes.   
  
For a moment, only the soft dripping of water echoed through the roomy bathroom. Then Robbie started laughing. And Sportacus joined. They laughed until their ribs groaned in protest.  
  
  
“You really are good for nothing.”  
  
“I'm sorry, Robbie. I didn't know.” Sportacus held his hand before his lips, relieved to see ease on the man's face.  
  
“Ah, hell to it.” the villain chuckled, and began stripping himself down to his birthday suit. “Now, let me show you how this works.”  
  
Robbie moved the faucet to the correct temperature, then slowly let the water run down and on top of both of them. Robbie's pompadour, as much as it could endure, collapsed slowly into itself and he ran a hand through his hair to slick it back. “Left turn is the devil's armpit, right is northpole. You see?”  
  
Sportacus, obviously, didn't see. His eyes were fixed to Robbie, staring with wide, blue eyes in awe and a pink shade forming on his face. He had never seen Robbie drenched like this. Sweaty and exhausted, sure; but in the stream of water when his make-up was becoming a little runny, and water running over his shoulder and steam forming around his frame was giving him the countenance of an angel, standing right by him in very narrowed space.  
  
“Sportastare.” Robbie muttered and Sportacus blinked.   
  
“Wh-- I uh. I'm sorry Robbie, I'm afraid I missed what you just said.”  
  
“The faucet. I was talking about the faucet.” he said.  
  
“A-Ah. Yes.” Sportacus blinked sheepishly. “So, uhm. This is what a shower is?”  
  
“Well, almost.” Robbie grabbed the shampoo bottle, and began pouring the liquid soap over his shoulders. “You take this, and put some on your body and, well – you get soaped up.”  
  
Sportacus nodded and followed suit. “No, nono, not that much! That stuff is sinfully expensive, you hear? Just enough to cover most of yourself.”

Sportacus nodded again and started rubbing circles over his collarbone, just like Robbie did. “You start here somewhere, on your shoulders if you will. Then down your arms, there. And your other arm. And over your chest, like that.”  
  
Sportacus watched Robbie's slender fingers brush over his lean ribcage and pale skin, which started glistening with soap, trails of foam and bubbles all over his chest. Robbie's finger played around pink nipples, tiny scars and blemishes and rippled ever so slightly with every bulge of a rib bone.   
  
He knew it had to be the water, but for some reason he felt very warm all of the sudden. Of course he should follow Robbie's instructions, “Your sides, there. And your hips, your navel,” Robbie continued and Sportacus's eyes flicked down with the path Robbie's fingers wandered, lower down his tall, lanky body, over protruding bones and sparse muscles and just the slightest most adorable bit of love handles and pudge.   
  
  
It was more out of reflex that Sportacus' hand found Robbie's body too. Once he realized, he wanted to draw back but lacked the power to do so.   
  
  
“Sportacus, on your own body.” Robbie corrected him.  
  
“Err - Hm?” he stammered, dreamily.  
  
“You're supposed to wash your own bo – _oh_.”   
  
Sportacus' lips found the tender skin of Robbie's neck. He kissed there, the only spot he found not yet covered in foam, and tasted, and smelled. He smelled always so heavenly.  
  
He was relieved to feel Robbie easing up, arms slinging around his shoulder and neck. _“Mhh.”_ he purred into Sportacus' ear – and that was it. He was a goner. Hands roamed over Robbie's still soaped body, but didn't mind much, lips to the villains and kissing and nibbling and exploring and luring out pretty noises from him as his hands groped his rump.  
  
“This is not...” his lips were captured, “...what you usually do...” He was kissed again. “...In the shower, but...”  
  
“Shall I stop?”  
  
“Don't you dare.” Robbie growled and Sportacus chuckled a breathy laugh, before he was pulled back into a long, passionate kiss. 


	6. Ocean Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mermaid!AU

Something stirred the water surface.  
  
  
Robbie blinked, and yawned, stretching over the rock he had rested. “Mhh...Looks like we're getting some dinner after all.” Robbie muttered.  
  
He lifted the smooth, sandy, gray shark tail that merged into his hipbones, and flopped it down. Dust swirled in slow motion through the sea, but the loud 'thump' it made vibrated into the cave beneath the stone he sat on.  
  
_“Youch!!”_ A voice echoed from beneath, and three heads emerged from the darkness. “This is the third time I'm hittin' my head on that friggin' cave wall this week.” Growled the taller one of the three mermen that had emerged, rubbing his skull. They all looked just like Robbie. Tall, and lean, black hair that was fixed into a pompadour, gray shark tails beginning where their upper body ended.  
  
  
“Get up, boys.” Robbie chuckled, and pointed above his head. “Dinner's coming.”  
  
  
“Dinner?” the three brothers muttered and looked above their cove. The surface of the water above was fluttering, the orange gleam of dusk was shining through the deep, dark water. A shadow was slowly sinking down towards them. Their eyes widened, and their jaws dropped.  
  
“Crikey! Lookit that! If that ain't some seal.” Bobby cheered.  
  
“That's even a bigger one than we had last week.” Said Tobby, the second tallest. Flobby, the smallest and mute one, grabbed the others by their arms and tugged. “Ah, you're right Flobby. Come on boys. Let's start circlin'.”  
  
“Guh, I'm too lazy to circle today.” Robbie yawned and crossed his arms beneath his head. “You three go.”  
  
“Aw, come on, Wobbie.” Bobbie crossed his arms. “There won't be much left of it once it has sunk all the way down here.”  
  
“I'm pretty fine with bones, thank you. God beware I'll look like Flobby at the end of the day.”  
  
The smallest merman gave an indignant gasp, drowned by bubbles slipping from his lips, clasping his stomach rolls.

“He didn't mean it, Flobby.” Tobby tried to assure him, but the damage was done – enough for them to start going without their pack leader.  
  
  
Robbie sighed as he got comfortable on his rock again, closing his eyes. He opened one to watch the three mermen push themselves off the sandy ground and start swimming towards their prey. He relaxed again, not bothering to watch another poor, dead seal getting ripped apart by three hungry sharks.  
  
Some moss and orange kelp were swirling in the air and right into Robbie's nose. He sneezes, shaking himself, eyes fixed back on the scene above. He paused rubbing his nose as he caught a closer glimpse.  
  
That's...a strange looking seal, he thought.  
  
It wasn't very fat, sadly, which means there truly wouldn't be much left for him at the end, seeing as his three brothers hadn't had a proper meal for a week now. It had very tall, and very long fins. On both sides of its body.  
  
He watched this strange animal slowly sink further into the sea's depths, Bobby, Tobby and Flobby circling in a spiral around, their snicker echoing in the water. Robbie decided it was nothing but the shivering water that played his mind a trick, and was just about to close it again.

  
That's when he suddenly heard the panicky yelps of his friends above.  
  
_“What the hell is that?!”_

  
Robbie was up at instant. He saw three, absolutely terrified mermen speeding through the water, and quickly hiding back into their cove.  
  
“Hey, what the – what's wrong with you?” Robbie frowned. “Is this one not good enough for you three picky eater either?”  
  
“N-No!” They stammered. “Th-here was something in the water! Something _huge!_ Just a few yards away from us.”  
  
“It's probably just a whale...”  
  
“No! It was bigger than a whale! It...it didn't have fins! And it made terrible, _terrible_ sounds!”  
  
Robbie blinked back up to the surface, but saw nothing.  
  
“Ugh. Fine.” He groaned. “I'll have a look.”  
  
Robbie floated up towards the water surface. He was sure, the three were just seeing ghosts, a classic chase of Red Tide aberration.  
  
However, as Robbie came closer and closer to their original 'dinner', Robbie suddenly froze, as if the water around him solified into ice.  


That...

That was not a seal.  
  
Not a kind of bird either. Nor driftwood.

  
  
It was a human. It _had_ to be a human.

  
  
They were like them, like mermaids – just without the tail. And without the capability to breathe underwater.

That's why Robbie stood there, staring in befuddlement for a good ten seconds before he realized what sort of situation this was.

There was a human, and he was _sinking._

He was drowning.

He made absolutely no indications of moving, struggling. His eyes were closed and his lips barely parted, with bubbles of air slipping out. He looked almost peaceful, the way he was hovering silently through the water.

He was strong, with blonde and brown hair and a strange mustache on his upper lips. Handsome, Robbie thought. He had never seen one of them before, he had never seen a human before. Were they all like this? Strong and good looking?

  
Robbie was torn out of his state of shock by that sudden feel of panic that rose in his throat. He had to _save_ this man. He had to bring him to the surface.

But...if Glanni knew he had helped a human, instead of eating him on the spot...

  
Robbie swam closer, and placed his flat hand on the man's chest. There was a heartbeat. Weak, but still there.

He wasted no time, grabbing the man around his waist, and instantly zooming towards the water surface. He swam, as fast as his bed-ridden body could.

He froze yet again at the same exact spot Bobby, Tobby and Flobby had flown from – he saw it too.

The large, way too large shadow in close proximity, lurking in the mist of the deep blue, its deep iron grumbling echoing through the water like an ever consuming growl. It was a ship. The human's ship, no doubt. Robbie continued to swim, faster, closer – until he breached through the surface. Gasping, his lungs filling with sharp, cold air, he coughed, but kept swimming, holding the mans face above, as he approached the boat.

  
_“Sharks !”_ the panicky voices of sailors echoed over the boat. They leaned over the railing and pointed at the stirring water, the sharp gray fin sticking out through the water.  
  
"There are sharks in the water!"  
"Oh god, a-nd the capatins son! He's still in there!"  
"Get the harpoons, boys! Quick!!"

“Wait – but that's him! He's coming back, he's swimming back to he boat!”  
“Is that – There are two men! Look!”  
  
Confusion set in as the men watched their captain's son approach the boat, slowly coming to terms that there was, in fact, a stranger carrying the man to the boat. “Íþró! Íþró, captain! Come quick! Your son!”

Robbie noticed the sailors opening up a hatch in the railing. He swam closer, until he had reached the deck. The man in his arm was instantly pulled from his grasp and lowered to the ground.

  
“Let me through! Let me through! My son! Sportacus! My son! Is he alive?!”

  
Robbie saw the group part, and a man just as tall as the one he carried, with brown-golden locks and a mustache just as strange as the other one, with a bandanna wrapped around his neck, fell to his knees and cradled his drenched son to his chest.

“Sportacus, my boy. Please wake up. Please. You're save now, you're back home.”

Sportacus started coughing, water spurting out of his lungs. He groaned, and slowly opened one eye. “Faðir....what... what happened?” His head turned to the side, and caught the glance on a man, naked, drenched and unfamiliar, holding onto the deck.  
  
But he barely had the time to have a closer glance at him, for he was instantly pulled into a bone-crushing hug from his father.  
  
“Oh Sportacus. You tumbled off the railing while doing handstands and – oh god we thought the sharks would have eaten you before we could have saved you.”  
  
Well. That explained the loud splash, Robbie remembered. Sportacus - more like Sporta _flop!_ What a doofus. But at least, he was a _living_ doofus.  
  
  
“Thank you.” Íþró whispered, and Robbie noticed it was directed to him. The captain's eyes glistened with tears of relief. “Thank you, for saving him.”  
  
  
Robbie looked over to Sportacus. He was looking back at him. He could feel his non-existent knees growing soft at the sight of such beautiful blue eyes on such a beautiful human face, now so alive, when he looked so ded just moments ago...

  
“You saved me, didn't you? Y-You must be freezing! Come, I'll help you out of the water!” Sportacus instantly scrambled from the captain's arms and leaned over the deck to take a hold of Robbie's shoulder.

Robbie flinched, and drew back, diving back down into the water. He fled, his tail pushing him on and splashing water up the walls of the boat. Everyone stared in awe, as the mysterious man vanished.

“By merlin's beard.” They whispered in awe. “A merman...A real merman!”  
  
  
In retrospect, Robbie deplored his sudden departure from the scene. He just – he was ever touched like this. Never looked at this way. Those heavenly blue eyes, bluer than the deepest sea, prettier than the prettiest seashell.  
  
His heart was hammering from all the fuzz, and the excitement of meeting a human, a real human, for the first time, and his heart didn't even slow down as the merman softly landed back on the rock down at the bottom of the sea. He felt his ribcage sink and lower, his vision blur, everything was distorted, but one thing was crystal clear – those eyes...  
  
“Hey, the heck happened up there, Wobbie?” Bobby was sticking his head out of his cove.  
“I-I'm...” Robbie whispered. “I think I just saw a human.”  
  
“A human?!” Now Tobby had emerged from his hiding place as well. “A _real_ human? Aren't those terrible, ugly monsters with harpoons and nets, riding on huge metallic dolphins?”  
  
  
He didn't know if this was true. But if this man, Sportacus, was a monster, he may be the most beautiful monster he had ever seen.

 


	7. Patty Cake, Patty Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Haipe
> 
> Confectionary baker AU!
> 
> I got so carried away with this, and wanted to make this a little more unique, so this is longer oops.

This guy was suspicious.

Not in a threatening way, but in a way that made Robbie think out loudly: “What kind of 200 pound heavy muscle head prefers to eat these amounts of candy instead of milkshakes and protein bars?”

  
It seemed the man at the counter had heard that small monologue of the confectionary baker, and he started laughing. “Oh, well.” he said and shrugged. “It's 182 pounds actually – and I don't eat them all at once either, you know.”  
“Uh-huh.” Robbie arched his brow, as he grabbed his spade and plunged it into the fudge container, scooping them into a large bag. “Is that why you come here every day, ordering amounts that could feed a whole village?”

The man hunched his shoulders with a sheepish smile. “I do get a little carried away sometimes. I just really like these, uhm, what's those bright colored cookies again?”  
“They're macarons.”  
“Right! Right. Well, I really like these a lot! They look...happy.”  
  
“ _Happy?_ ” Robbie echoed, dropping fruit gums and toffees into the bag.  
  
“Yes! They look happy and colorful and they are nice to look at.”

  
Admittedly, Robbie has had some strange people coming into his little candy shop – but this guy may be the oddest. He was certain he had never heard anybody describe any piece of sweets like this. Of course, the first thing to look in for candy was the taste. If something tasted good, people will buy more from it.  
  
This guy however apparently ate with his eyes, for he cares more about the visual aspects. But oh well – Robbie didn't bother to care about people's preferences – he was just here to earn his money. And considering just how much, and how often mister funny-mustache came in here, nearly every day, always buying different candies, Robbie shouldn't try to pry, else he might loose his very first regular customer.

“Alright, fudge, toffees, butterscotch – what else can I get for you?”  
  
The mans eyes roamed over sugar worms, marshmallow mice, chocolate pieces and cupcakes. He definitely was the definition of a child in a candy store, eyes wide and curious at so many colorful creations. “Hmm – oh! What are these here?” the man pointed at the small tray on the counter.

“Well, uh, those are marzipan sticks.”  
  
“I'll have these too! A-And those?”  
  
“That's cotton candy – wait you've never seen cotton candy before? Everyone has had cotton candy before.”  
  
“I'll take it as well! And – Whoa! Look at these!” The man pointed at the large pile of gummibears. “And these are all edible?”  
  
“Of course they are, you think I sell pretty colored rocks?”

  
He was greeted with a soft chuckle. “Sorry, Mister Rotten. I didn't mean to offend you. And you made all of these yourself, right?”  
“I – uhm. Yes. Yes I did.” Robbie wiggled his apron back into place. “Yes indeed.”  
  
“That's amazing,” Sportacus said. “You are very, very talented. Mister Rotten.”  
  
Now that was a compliment he received often. Never ever though from a man that spend half of his life in a gym. For some reason those words, combined with that soft smile, that funny but yet charming mustache and those blue puppy eyes looking at him with genius admiration made his stomach flutter.  
  
“I, uh, err – yes, so I've been told. Anyway, uh – lets wrap this up, shall we?”  
“Oh, yes, of course.” the man nodded. At the end, Robbie had slipped samples of each and every piece of candy he offered into the bag which now had expanded to the size of an actual shopping bag.  
  
“Thank you so much for your time, Mister Rotten. And, for all the candy of course.”  
“My pleasure, uh...” Robbie looked for a name tag. “What did you say your name was, again?”  
  
“Oh! Hah. Right I forgot to introduce myself.” the man balanced the bag on his other arm.. “ Íþróttaálfurinn junior, but, please – just call me Sportacus.”  
  
Robbie was nearly thankful to have one terribly ridiculous name reduced to a little less complicated, but nevertheless equally dumb name.  
  
“Sporta -what now?”  
“Sportacus.” Sportacus said patiently.  
“That's some...exotic name.”  
“You think so?” He grinned, and Robbie just now noticed the extended hand. “Ah, right! Well –“ he shook it. “Robbie, if we are going by first names now.”

 

* * *

  
It was Sunday, which means, it was cake-day. Robbie was exhausted from baking cakes all day, but endlessly proud of his creations.  
  
The queue of people was reaching outside the shop and down the street, so many people wanted to pick up their pies and cakes for their afternoon coffees or birthday parties. Robbie was usually too lazy to bother getting himself a second hand to help him out in the store, which turned out to be a problem for today. One hand at the pan to melt caramel, the other handing out the people's orders, Robbie was positively busy.

  
And like an angel, blonde and small and pretty, hearing his unspoken pleas for a second set of hands, Sportacus showed up behind the tall lady with the black furcoat. 

“Hey Robb- oh.” Sportacus blinked.  
  
Robbie was doing three things at once, cooking, mixing cake batter and wrapping paper around a very colorful small cake, with no time left to even acknowledge the gym-fanatic at the counter.  
Considering the large queue all the way outside, there was no wonder Robbie was sitting neck-deep in work. However, as Sportacus looked around, his eyes were met with the most colorful cakes and beautifully, aesthetic pies and cupcakes. This man was truly a master of his art.  
  
But it was obvious – he needed help. And the people behind him became pushy and cranky.  
  
"Sorry everyone for keeping you waiting. How can I help you today?" Sportacus quickly slipped behind the counter.  
  
Robbie flinched as he heard this familiar voice, and seeing the smaller man suddenly standing next to him. “He-Hey, Sportaflop!” he snarled. “What are you doing there?”  
  
“I'm helping you.” Sportacus smiled at him, and turned to the next customer.  
  
Robbie usually denied any help. But he couldn't say he didn't feel half of the pressure on his shoulders dropping as Sportacus took over writing down orders, or serving finished products to the customers. The flow of guests slowly reduced, one by one, the queue easing up, and orders were finally going out.  
  
As the clock rang six pm, Robbie was a sweaty, exhausted mess, holding himself onto a chair to keep his body from sinking to the ground.

  
“I hate my job...” he growled, but Sportacus laughed.

“No, you _love_ your job, Robbie, i know you do - But you really should consider hiring a second set of hands.”  
  
“I'll hire you, right away.” he replied, and Sportacus chuckled again. He didn't look tired whatsoever.  
  
“I wish I had your energy, Sportanut. Either way.” Robbie drew closer a plate with a huge, lilac cake with whipped cream. "Dinner time!"  
  
  
Sportacus frowned. “You eat cake for dinner?”  
  
“Yup. Also for breakfast and lunch and afternoon brunch and midnight snack...” Robbie shrugged.  
  
“That's not healthy, Robbie, You need nutrition, vitamins – “  
  
“If I had a dollar for each time people tell me that.” he said as he took a huge bite. “I could sell this old shop here. Besides.” Robbie looked at him. “Aren't _you_ the one that keeps buying half of my shop?”  
  
Sportacus blushed. Robbie couldn't help but smile, despite the pain in his back and the terrible headache he had and the overall exhaustion he felt.

  
“Hey, speaking of that – I kept these bad boys hidden from all those gawking eyes, but these here --” Robbie grabbed a tray beneath the counter. “I saved up for you.”

Sportacus stared down at a set of red and green colored squares.  
  
“These are turkish delights. After my mothers recipe.” Robbie smirked with pride. “I figured you are such a healthy nut, and you always buy apple flavored gums. So – “ he raised one of them to his mouth. “I made them apple flavored.”  
  
“You made these for _me_...?” Sportacus blinked.

"Pfeh, I mean, I was just --” Robbie rubbed his hands on his apron. “I was having some apple juice lying around here anyway. Come on. Take a bite. Tell me what you think!”  
  
“I-I – “ Spotacus frowned. He seemed conflicted. But, of course, didn't want to be rude. And thus, he slowly placed it in his mouth.

 

Everything went back so fast, that once Sportacus woke up again, finding himself in, what seemed to be a hospital room, he blinked hard and fast, and took a huge gulp of air.  
  
“H-hey! Hey Sportacus, are you awake?”  
  
“H-Hey Robbie.” he said. “Wh-Where are we?”  
  
“You just suddenly collapsed all of the sudden, so I called the ambulance. Are you alright? You just went pale all of the sudden and dropped like a sack of rice. – I-I _swear_ those turkish delights weren't spiked with any roofies if you think that.”  
  
Sportacus felt guilt pool in his stomach. “Robbie. There's uhm...something I should tell you.”  
  
He told him everything. The fact that he couldn't eat sweets, else he would go into a complete sugar meltdown. “B-But why did you buy all those candies then?” Robbie asked.  
  
“The kids I work with at the gym are all eating candy, and talk about it a lot. I thought if I bought some, I could connect better with them.”

Robbie's expressions softened. “And...I guess they eat all of the candies, too?”  
  
“Yes.” Sportacus frowned. “They eat lots of healthy things, and I try to maintain their diet, but – they do earn some candy once in a while. You know, as rewards.”  
  
Robbie sat back on the bed. “So. You lied to me.” he concluded.  
  
“I-I didn't – I mean. Yes.” Sportacus admitted. “I'm sorry, Robbie.”  
  
Robbie seemed like he was pondering. “Hmm. Lets see here – ever since you started shopping at my place I have a sudden storm of children visiting my shop every day and wasting their dumb pocket money on candy. I never had such a high demand for pies and cake like I had today. Oh – and I made more money ever since we met than I have made in all those fifteen years keeping this hovel glued together. So – I have no right to hold grudges against you, Sportanoodle.” He smiled.  
  
Sportacus positively beamed back at him.  
  
“Ah. Almost forgot.” Robbie roamed his pockets, and pulled out a few dollar bills. “This is for you. For helping me out today. And eh, this should pay your hospital room too. And uh – in case you wanna get a lawyer involved since I pretty much put you in here in the first place --”  
  
Sportacus looked at the money. Then, he slowly shook his head. “Keep it Robbie. I don't need it.”  
  
“B-But you – “  
  
Sportacus took hold of Robbie's hands. “This is enough for me.” he said, and he felt glad when he felt Robbie squeezing his back.

 

 


	8. Ocean Eyes pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Souprice, I wrote more Mermaid AU!

The ship hadn't left, Robbie hat noticed.

He probably shouldn't notice stuff like this, but he did. He often abandoned his cove and his cozy rock, just to swim a little closer to the outlines of that huge vessel.

He never came too close. Tried to keep his intentions hidden from Glanni.

The old tiger shark had taught them better than to approach humans.

“You see this?” he would point down his spine, to the scar on his back where a fin used to be. “Stolen. By these filthy humans! You know what they did with it?” He asked, and each time Flobby looked like he would vomit; “They _ate_ it! Cut it off, cooked it, seasoned it, and ate it! All of it! Remember my children - they are dangerous. They're _savages._ ”

  
But Robbie knew, Sportacus was not like them. He was too good to do him any harm.

  
Nevertheless, the wrath of Glanni, knowing his son not only saved a human, but longed to see him again, was hindering Robbie to find the courage and approach it. Instead, he would sink back to the bottom of the sea, and sigh.

  
“Sportacus...” he muttered, running his fingers over a pretty shell he found beneath the sand. “What a strange name. Hm. Sportaflop...” Robbie snickered. “That fits him. The klutz fell off the ship while he was flopping around.”  
  
“Would you kindly stop talkin' about him so loudly!” Tobby's voice hissed. “Glanni's still around!”  
  
“Yeah, he'll beach you if he catches you talkin' bout the human, Wobbie.”  
  
“Tsk. I could outswim him by miles, that old fishbone. And besides.” Robbie flopped down onto his rock again. “I could save myself on that boat. I saved his life, he would save mine too, right? _Mmh,_ I'd jump into his big, strong arms and he would carry me around.” he giggled dreamily.   
  
The three brothers rolled eyes. “Y'know, they probably won't stay out on the sea for any longer time.” Bobby pointed out. “So ya might consider ya chances of escapin' again.”  
  
Robbie winced and instantly sat up from his spot.  
  
“You are right! Of course! They will go back to shore soon! Oh I must...” Robbie frantically looked around. His eyes caught the shell he just held. “I must go now. Now or never!”

  
He scooped it up, and quickly swam off towards the surface. The shadow of the ship was approaching fast, and Robbie slowed down, stayed beneath the surface, and made sure to keep his fin under water. There was no need to spook the other humans on deck and possibly cause another havoc.

He swam, until he reached the old, mossy wooden walls of the boat. Then, he slowly stuck his head out of the water, and searched along the railings.

And there he was. Sportacus was leaning against the railing, staring outside onto the open water. He was watching a few seals on that small rocky island that protruded from the depths of the sea, but he was too occupied with his thoughts.

This mysterious man hadn't left his memory. A merman, Íþróttaálfurinn had told him. A real merman had saved his live.   
  
He had never believed these mysterious creatures of the sea were real. But how could he doubt what he had seen with his own eyes?

"They usually aren't that nice." he had heard the sailors talk. "Usually they enchant people and drag them into the water to drown them." - "Yes. They are nothing but savages." another one said.  
  
  
Sportacus' thin, skyblue shirt was slightly fluttering in the wind, and Robbie's throat clogged up with his hammering heart and a burning blush threatened to plaster his pale face.   
He swam closer. Knocked on the wooden shell of the boat. Sportacus blinked and eyed the side of the ship.  
  
His eyes grew wide. “He-Hey, it's y--”  
“Shh!” Robbie hissed, his finger to his lips.   
  
Sportacus looked to the other sailors, and understood. Robbie pointed to the small hatch, the one they had opened yesterday. Sportacus nodded, and flip-flopped over to it. A little unnecessary, Robbie pondered, and totally not attracting unwanted attention – but nobody seemed to have noticed after all. They must be used to it now.  
  
The human crouched down. “So you really _are_ real. And I thought my half-drowned mind had played some tricks on me.” He smiled and his wiry mustache twitched. Robbie gulped.  
  
“I'm sorry I scared you yesterday. I was just – well, I thought you were another human who jumped after me to save me.”   
  
He had to do something, _anything_ before he would loose his cool completely.  
  
“I-uh.” Robbie coughed. “Well if I _were_ a human, I would stay miles away from the water, and I wouldn't bother saving flip-flopping captain son's that jump off of boats."  
  
Sportacus laughed, and it was like angels singing. “Yes, I do overdo it sometimes. But i just love moving around. Being active. What's your name? Are you really living, uh... down there?” He pointed at the water.  
  
“I do.” Robbie leaned against the wall. “I guess a human couldn't pronounce my name properly, for it's a lot of bubbles and gurgling.” Sportacus laughed again. “ _But_ \- Robbie. Yes. Call me Robbie.”  
  
“Alright! I shall call you Robbie, then.” the human said.   
  
  
They met up often after that. Sportacus always spoke quietly, and whenever someone asked what he was doing at the opened hatch, he said he was holding his feet in the water, while Robbie hid beneath the boat.  
  
Nobody knew he was secretly meeting a shark man every evening. Íþróttaálfurinn, however, had a suspicion. Ever since Sportacus began wearing the shell Robbie had brought him that day around his neck, he had an assumption as to why Sportacus was spending more time at the water, and asked to extend their stay off the shore.   
  
It's a warm day, and Robbie carefully knocks on the boat. The hatch opens – and Robbie's jaw dropped  
  
. Sportacus was without clothes. Wearing nothing but thin boxers, the sailor slipped down to the lowered deck. He was, to say it most accurately, the closest to a demigod that Robbie had ever encountered. Muscular. Tanned. Handsome. Not a blemish, not a scar, skin smooth and shining in the sun.   
  
“Hey Robbie.” He greeted with a wave. Robbie was so caught in staring, he barely realized Sportacus was beginning to hold his feet into the water, and –  
  
_Splash.  
_  
“W-What are – what are you doing?!” Robbie gasped.   
  
“It's a warm day.“ Sportacus explained, keeping himself up at the surface with the strength of his kicking legs.“I really needed some cooling. “Mh, the water is so nice. Well – when you're not drowning in it, that is.” He splashed water over his head and into his hair, ruffling his golden locks and now his skin looked even smoother than before with water running down and, _oh my_...  
  
“D-Don't you know it's dangerous?! Th-There – there could be sharks!” he stammered. Sportacus blinked. Then, he started laughing. “But Robbie – _you_ are a shark.”  
  
“I-I don't – I- I mean. I mean _real_ sharks, Sportaderp! Dangerous, man-eating sharks!”  
  
But Sportacus couldn't be bothered. He swam closer. “I'm sure you'll keep me save.” He smiled. “You're good at keeping me save.”  
 _Oh no._ His hand closed around Robbie's. “Come, lets swim around!”  
  
The ocean was blue, but Sportacus' eyes were the bluest. The waves and the water was strong, but Sportacus was stronger. It felt strange to have this man inside his own realm again, this time alive and not drowning. But it was all the more exciting. They swam, hand in hand. He wanted to take him to his cove. Show him his home. The beautiful depth of the sea, his favorite rock that was covered in fluffy orange seaweed.  
  
“I wish you could breathe underwater.” Robbie said. Sportacus smiled, and a few bubbles slipped from his lips. “And I wish you could stay with me, outside the water.” Sportacus spoke through the spurt of bubbles.   
  
His fingers touched the gills on the side of his neck. They fluttered against his finger tips and Robbie was breathless. His own hands slipped to the human's neck, touching. Then touching his waving hair. Holding that round handful of biceps, and feeling hands move up his spine in a loving cradle. Their lips touched in a soft kiss.   
  
  
And then, it ended as fast as it had started.  
  
  
They hadn't noticed the panicky calls from the ship, crying 'shark' and 'the merman is drowning the captains son!'. The sharp shaft of the harpoon zoomed through the water – and through Robbie's body with such ease it was insulting.  
  
“YOU IDIOTS!” Íþróttaálfurinn screamed across the deck.   
  
Sportacus was frozen. Those grey eyes before his, wide, tiny blood vessels slowly replacing the white. Lips twitched. And then Robbie gasped. Gasped for air, his hands shaking as they held onto Sportacus.   
  
“No! NO!” Sportacus swam to the surface. “Robbie!”  
  
Blood colored the beautiful blue of the ocean. “ _Robbie!!”  
_  
“Get him out of the water!!” The captain ordered and the sailors grabbed and pulled on Sportacus, but he didn't let go of the merman. Sportacus hived Robbie to the deck, falling to his knees at his side. “Robbie, do you hear me? Robbie, look at me. Look at me.” He cradled Robbie's head in his palms. He was so pale...  
  
“I-I will – I will try to pull it out.” he stammered. “I-I'm..”   
  
It was too heavy. Too big. He would just tear Robbie further apart if he tried, but – Blood soaked the wooden floor. Blood covered his beautiful gray shark tail. He gasped, his voice rasping and gurgling like a fish on land.   
  
“Help...” Sportacus whispered, as realization hit him. “P-Please. Anybody...” tears rolled down his face. “ANYBODY!!” The sailors flinched away, aware that there was nothing they could do.  
  
“Sportacus.” Íþróttaálfurinn touched his shoulder. “He's...He won't...”  
  
“H-He needs water. We need to bring him back into the water!” Sportacus babbled, throwing his arms around Robbie's body. He slipped back into the ocean, embraced in a curtain of bubbles.   
  
  
“R-Robbie, you're back in the water. C-Come on, breathe. _Breathe_ , y-you'll get through this, I'll fix you up, I-I promise.”  
  
“Sporta...” Robbie wheezed. His hands still clung to his shoulders. “Sportacus, I-I'm - ”  
  
“D-Don't talk. I-it's okay. I'll – I'm here. I won't leave you, Robbie. I promise.“   
  
  
Suddenly he was grabbed from above. Hands snatched onto his shoulder, and with force, he was dragged back to the surface.  
  
Robbie barely heard the screams and cries of protest coming from his lover as he struggled. Didn't feel as his body sank slowly, deeper, and deeper. Nothing hurt anymore. It all felt so light. Except breathing...It was hard to do.

  
He landed softly on his rock. One arm dangling from the stone, the other holding onto that offensive metallic pole stuck in his body. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Could hear his name being yelled from all sides. Above. Around him. Beneath him. Inside his head.  
  
  
The sky above colored red.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops....


	9. Ocean eyes pt.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been keeping ya all on the edge of your seats for long enough, here's the last installment of this gay mess.

Glanni knew his son was dying.

The smell of blood and a broken heart mixed with the worried cries of the triplets traveled miles through the ocean; it was unmissable.

The old tiger shark sighed, for he knew it was not only the harpoon that killed the young merman. It was yet another one of those stories that he himself was all too familiar with.

  
“Robbie...” Glanni whispered, as he approached the scene of tragedy that unfolded before his eyes. Robbie never heard his father speak his name like this; with sorrow and laden with regret. Robbie opened his heavy eyes. Drew in a rattling breath that send quivers through his body like small electroshocks.

  
“Oh, what have they done to you...?”

Glannis hands close around the heavy harpoon and all impulses screamed for him to pull it out – but the humans instruments were evil, and he knew he would not be able to tear it out without taking a good part of Robbie's insides out as well.

Despair plastered the mans face, that stoic grimace that had never faltered into something so vulnerable until now.

“I thought I taught you and the three blockheads better than to ever approach the humans! Why don't you listen to me? _Ever?_ ”  
“I love him, Glanni...” Robbie whispered. “I just wanted...to be close to him...”  
  
“And see where it has brought you to!” Glanni yelled. “We don't fall in love with humans, Robbie, It's unnatural! It's _dangerous!_ We aren't meant to be, our environments and the vulgar human greed is our collective doom! They are _savages_ – have you forgotten that?”  
  
“Speak for yourself, old man." Robbie coughed. "You loved a human once too...”  
  


Glanni paused. Yes. He did love a human once.

Back in his youth, a young energetic captain had fallen off his boat. He had saved him, brought him back to his ship before the sharks could eat him. He loved him at once, the moment he saw his face.

He followed their route for miles, gave up his home and his territory just to travel along with the man he loved. They talked and talked to the very evening hours. They swam together. They loved together. Him and his captain. But one day, one of them caught him. Brought him on deck. Strapped him to the floor as they sliced his beautiful fin off his back.

The pain was excruciating. But what hurt more than anything was to see his love, his captain, being hold back by his crew as he cried and yelled for them to stop, to leave him be. But alas, his crew was starving. And he was the only fish that had taken the bait.

They threw Glanni out of the boat like he was nothing. Like he was just trash. And he, too, sank down the ocean, forever broken-hearted. Forever hating humans.

  
“I _never_ loved him!” Glanni hissed. “He abandoned me, when I needed him the most! He didn't do anything but watch! He didn't swim after me as they dumped me back into the ocean, not caring if I ever could swim again! I will hate them. All of them. _Forever!_ ”  
  
Robbie took another rattling breath as his fathers voice's echo subsided.  
“He had no choice.” Robbie whispered. “And neither had Sportacus. Try as a might, Glanni – I cannot hate him. I cannot...it wasn't his fault...wasn't his fault.”  
  
He coughed and a plume of blood streamed from his throat into the water. Glanni's wrath was blown away, the moment he realized he hadn't had much time left. He always thought he couldn't forgive the man he loved, although it's true – it wasn't his fault either.  
  
  
“Do you really love him so much?” Glanni asked. “Do you really forgive him after he put you through all this pain?”  
  
  
Robbie's voice was empty. “Yes.” he breathed, as his eyes fell close. His head lolled to the side.   
Glanni sighed. Tears threatened to spill from his eye. “My dear Robbie. I never would have thought I would use this spell, but – if this is all that you want. Then who am I to deny you this.”  
  
  
Robbie woke up from long darkness. He felt free all of the sudden, His body free of its own weight and floating through some unidentified space.   
  
He breathed in – and his eyes shot open as burning water filled his lungs. Robbie coughed, gagged. He paddled with his tail as hard as he could, but found himself not moving at all. What was happening?

An arm hooked beneath his own. He was suddenly pulled, hard and fast, the light of the sun approaching so fast – and then his body breached through the surface.  
  
“Breathe,” Glanni ordered, and Robbie, being told to never, ever breathe in air - “ _Breathe!!_ ” Glanni pushed.   
  
And Robbie did. Fresh, clear air. He coughed, water spilling from his lips, another deep breath. The water felt icy cold on his skin. It never had bothered him before, but now, he was shaking.   
  
“Gl-Glanni.” he stammered. “Wh-What is this?”  
  
“Look down. “ The merman ordered. Robbie looked down himself – and nearly had a heart attack at what he saw. Legs. He had human legs.  
  
“Wh-What did you – how did you –? _Guh!_ ” Robbie clutched his shoulders as another wave of shivers ran down his body. “I feel miserable.”

“Yes, yes. Humanity is agony – you'll get used to it. Now, hold onto me. We will get you to the shore.” Glanni said, and Robbie, dumbfounded, found himself clinging hard to his father's body.   
  
As they swam, Robbie slowly realized what just had happened. He was a human. A real, two-legs, air-breathing human. The wound on his side was gone completely, besides a large scar stretching along his hip. And that's when something else occurred to him. He could see Sportacus again.  
  
  
Sportacus hadn't said a word ever since they arrived back in Lazytown's harbor, to unload their cargo of sportcandy.  
  
He was quiet, and pale. Refused to eat. Refused to talk to anybody. Íþróttaálfurinn knew his son was plagued with guilt. He knew what he was going through. Barely thirty years ago, he too had this encounter.   
  
“Son, I know how you feel.” he placed a hand o his shoulder and rubbed.  
  
“No. No you don't.” Sportacus hung his head low as he put another box ontop of a stack.   
  
“Oh yes. I definitely do. I once have fallen in love with a merman myself.” he said. Sportacus eyed him with surprise.  
  
“He was just like your friend – sweet and handsome, and we were young and careless. But we had a problem – we all were starving from being stuck in storms for weeks, and were ready to eat anything. Really. Anything. They caught my Glanni. And they...well.”   
  
He frowned. “They sliced off his fin. I couldn't do anything but watch as they took it from him, and then threw him back into the ocean. I couldn't even say goodbye to him; god knows if he even survived.”  
  
Sportacus gulped. He was absolutely sure there was no way Robbie had survived. He pressed his eyes close, and a tear slipped down his face.   
  
“Why is this happening, faðir ? Why did he have to die?“ Sportacus buried his face in his palms and turned away, so the other sailors wouldn't notice. “He didn't do harm to anybody. He was goodhearted. He wouldn't have hurt me, never! I didn't even tell him that I--” Sportacus paused, gulped.   
  
“I love him, faðir.”   
  
“I know. I know...”  
  
Íþró rubbed his sons shoulder. He knows what this felt like – he too had gone through this. He told him to take off work for now, and return to their barracks. But Sportacus stayed at the shore. Like he had always done, his feet dangling into the water. Watching another sun setting into the water.  
  
He barely heard the sudden, very chaotic yells of his crew. He did notice once they started gathering at the shoreline, apparently yelling and calling that there was a man, drowning. Sportacus frowned, and quickly got up on his feet, running up to the shore to see –   
  
  
Black hair. Lanky frame. Strikingly pale, gray eyes. Like a reborn angel, the man rose from the pools of deep blue.   
  
  
Robbie was pulled from the merman's arms, and to the shore, his knees wobbly and shaking and he had to be held up by two men, while someone wrapped parts of sailcloth around the shivering, drenched man.  
  
“Sportacus...” Robbie whispered, as he saw the man in the crowd. They stared at each other –   
  
“Robbie...” Sportacus muttered. Then louder, “ _Robbie!_ ” - and then, his feet began moving and he ran, threw his hands around him and Robbie clung to him like he was is lifeline.   
  
“Robbie! You're okay! You're alive! Y-Your wound. ” he checked Robbie all over. "Wh-Where did your fin go?"  
“That old thing? Gone.” Robbie chuckled with a shaky, tear-clogged voice, throwing his arms around the elf's neck. "I don't need it anymore."

Sportacus held him close and they kissed and cried and laughed in unison, whispering their love to each other between every kiss.  
  
  
Íþróttaálfurinn leaned to the water, and stared back into the face he once loved.   
  
“Glanni...” he breathed.   
  
“ _Ibuprofen_...” Glanni nodded, as formally as his speeding heart would allow. His eyes went from Sportacus. “Oh.” And then back to Íþró. “Oh...”  
  
They blinked at each other in equal bewilderment – before Glanni started chuckling. And then laughed. And Íþró joined, tore off his gadgets and jumped into the water, holding his merman close to himself.  
  
“You're still as beautiful as the day I met you.”  
  
“And you're still as cheesy as the day you fell into my ocean.” Glanni smirked, crossing his arms over the man's strong shoulder.  
  
“Your brat better be taking good care of mine.” he pointed up to the water surface. Íþróttaálfurinn looked up to the couple locked in a loving embrace. Then, he smiled brightly. “I don't think you'll have to worry about that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to prompts or requests! Just leave some ideas in the comments and I'll try to implement them ;)


End file.
